


The River Knows Its Time

by Oak_Leaf



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Death, F/M, Gen, Miscarriage, Mourning, Pregnancy, Thick as Thieves Spoilers, there is some fluff but it doesn't last
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oak_Leaf/pseuds/Oak_Leaf
Summary: This is about exactly what you think it is.Big spoilers forThick as Thieves.





	The River Knows Its Time

**Author's Note:**

> Title is, of course, a quote from the poem/song Kamet sings to Irene in _Thick as Thieves_ , as are the chapter names.

Phresine was the first to know. Even before the queen herself realized, her head attendant had recognized the signs. She then approached the queen and gently informed her. To Attolia’s embarrassment, her legs went weak like a young girl’s, and it was all she could do to slowly sit instead of dropping heavily into a chair.

“Are you sure?” she asked, unable to stop her voicing from cracking.

Phresine chuckled lightly. “Oh, I’ve seen enough in my time to be sure about this, My Queen.” She squeezed the queen of Attolia’s arm, and Attolia was vaguely aware of patting Phresine’s hand in return.

A daze had settled over her, and by the time she came out of it, her attendants readied her for bed. They departed for the night. Phresine, who took watch by the door, bidded her queen goodnight with a knowing smile.

Attolia gave a small smile in return. Then, she waited.

The third person to know was, of course, the king.

The queen sat primly on her bed, hands folded loosely in her lap, eyes watching the shadows flickering on the wall by the door. She slowly turned at the sound of his footstep behind her. There was little need for sneaking between rooms at that point, but still, he did it from time to time. (She didn’t question or scoff at it; only rolled her eyes when he appeared through hidden doorways or outside her window. A king he may be, but there was still a thief in him. She wouldn’t take that away.)

Not bothering with a preamble, Attolia said, “I am pregnant.” She watched his face as she spoke. It was so rare for him to be caught off guard and surprised, that seeing the expression sweep over his features was almost a delight.

“You are sure?” he asked, after a moment.

Her lips twitched at that, the unknowing echo of her own words. “As much as one can be.”

A smile split across Eugenides’s mouth. Irene let the matching one she had been holding back spread across her face, and she laughed lightly.

In a burst of movement, he rounded the bed and came to sit by her. His hand was on her cheek, his right arm around her. “Well,” he said.

“Well,” she agreed, and somehow her smile managed to grow even more.

“I suppose we will have to make the announcement,” he sighed, with mock gravity. He couldn’t quite manage it; the smile was still broad on his face, and his eyes are brighter than she could remember seeing. “Soon. With plenty of pomp and celebration.”

She nodded under his hand. There would be more pressing issues than announcing the happy news. Her retinue of guards, for instance, would need to be increased. Both thought of that and the potential risks and dangers that a child would be exposed to even before it was born. A queen pregnant with her only heir would seem an excellent opportunity for assassination. But neither spoke of it, not just then.

“Perhaps we should have a parade,” she teased.

Eugenides grinned. “Perhaps we should.”

 

* * *

 

There was a difference, Irene noted, between discussing and hoping, and having a thing enter real life. They had planned on children, of course; an heir was something of a necessity. However, she wasn’t sure how to handle the knowledge that in a few months she would be a mother. It was strange, and she refused to describe the feeling it gave her as giddy.

 

* * *

 

Before the reason was even made public, Attolia’s personal security was tightened. And when the announcement was made, it was done with all the necessary fuss and ceremony that a coming heir deserved.

Soon after, an examination was scheduled with Petrus. Once he had declared that the queen was by all appearances healthy, she and the king arranged for a visit to the temple of Hephestia at the crown of the city. There, prayers and sacrifices were made to the Great Goddess, and good will was asked of the deities concerned with children and childbirth. Attolia performed the rituals and actions with impeccable deference and carefully hidden bitterness. She was wary of the gods still. But even if she didn’t trust them, she would do what she could and must to coax them away from acting against her child.

The sacrifices and appeals made, Attolia led the way out of the temple. Her king appeared at her side, and took her arm in his.

The procession through the city, both to and from the temple, made a clear display of the Attolian people’s mood. Excitement could almost be tasted in the air. In the cheering, there was more energy than usual, and mentions of the expected prince or princess wove through their cries. This enthusiasm more open than that of the court, which had met the announcement with murmurs that quickly turned to a loud hum of conversation that hadn’t quite stopped yet. Most of their discussion ran towards politics and gossip, but there was excitement in it nonetheless.

Babies tended to have that happy effect on people. More so for a baby that would represent the hope of stability in their country’s future.

As excited as the court and country was, it was nothing compared to the joy of the queen’s attendants. They smiled and laughed, chattered happily amongst themselves, and kept careful watch over her.

“I thought you might like to try this new scent, Your Majesty. My sister swore up and down that the scent helped settle her when she was carrying her first.”

“Tch, surely those papers can wait for later, My Queen? There’s enough time for a nap before your next meeting.”

“Your Majesty, if it is not too free of me, please remember that the physician said rest was the best thing during the first stage.”

They were almost bossy. Her relationship with them had grown warmer since her marriage, but she still found herself surprised by how open they were. Surprised, but pleased, even when they fussed over her like a flock of birds.

 

* * *

 

When the response from their neighboring monarchs came, it brought a long bubbling letter from the mountain queen, and a slightly shorter but no less happy one from the king of Sounis. Eugenides was the recipient of various personal letters from his smattering of siblings and cousins, which brought crooked smiles to his face as he read.

Eddis’s Minister of War sent a letter to the queen of Attolia. And there was the odd part: It was not addressed to the king and queen, or to Eugenides, but to the queen alone. Inside, she found a note barely a page long. It solemnly expressed congratulations and wishes for good health and the gods’ protection. Along with the letter had come a parcel. The Minister of War explained, succinctly, that he had sent a few items he hoped she would find useful for the child.

Eugenides glanced at her when she had done reading what his father had sent. “What was it?” he asked, in clearly affected indifference.

She smiled wryly. “Short.”

“So?”

Irene could tell he was up the wall with curiosity, yet for some reason felt the need to be evasive about it. For anyone else, it might have worked; she, however, could see through him clearly. And he wasn’t the only one one who could play at that.

“Hm,” she responded. She kept her eyes trained on her papers while he shot her furtive looks.

The subtle act only lasted so long. By the time they had retired to her rooms, he was pestering her about the letter openly. The opportunity to tease him was too great to resist; Irene held the letter back. He finally managed to steal it from behind her back while she was distracted by a kiss.

Eugenides read the letter over, and then handed it back to her.“He was certainly the one who wrote this,” he commented.

“Good. We can cross off the possibility that an impostor wrote this for the sake of making me think he likes me,” Irene remarked, voice dry.

“He doesn’t dislike you, you know.”

“Apparently, if he’s writing me letters. Let’s see what he sent.”

She opened the parcel, and they looked over the baby things together. There was a blanket more colorfully embroidered than she would have expected coming from the impassive Eddisian, a plain metal teething which seemed more like him, and a few worn cloth toys.

“I know these,” Eugenides said, picking up a small woolly sheep.

“Hmm?” She looked up to see him smiling softly.

“We had them when we were younger, my siblings and I. I knew my mother had saved them, given a few to my older sisters when they had families, but...I didn’t think my father would have kept the rest.”

The significance of this gift was not lost on Attolia. One hand drifted to her belly, and she made a note to tell respond to the Minister of War and tell him so. She fingered the items gently, before setting them carefully aside to be placed with the baby paraphernalia that was being stocked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> After three years, I'm back posting Queen's Thief fic!! Woo! 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed the fluff in this chapter as much as I did (*cough* because it won't last). The plan is for this to be a three chapter story, following the course of the pregnancy. And it's my hope to have the whole thing finished and posted by the end of July, but we shall see. Let me know how I did with this first chapter!
> 
> I can't give enough thanks to my beta reader, Indigo Night Wisp, for taking the time to read and give feedback. She's a gift--and also, a fantastic writer in her own right. If you haven't read them already, go find her QT fic on FF. Net or Tumblr (indigo-night-wisp). You will not be disappointed.


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